Blogging

I've had people tell me that I shouldn't blog.

One person told me that, if I don't want to get into long and involved theological arguments and debates, then I shouldn't blog at all. Another person told me that I don't have time for blogging, and he has a valid point. Furthermore, I've spent many years thinking that real-life interaction is far preferable to socializing via the computer's electronic means.

But Anthea blogged today about her upcoming move. She mentioned that she'd try to update her LiveJournal more often, and that made me so happy. My friend Erin is considering starting a blog. I hate to say anything to put pressure on her, but I know I would be very happy to read little snippets about what she (and the kids!) are up to. Even when it's just the mundane things.

I love to read my daughters' blogs. (And even my sons' who are still living here in the same house!) Sure, I talk to the girls on the phone. But I want to read the little things about Rachel's kitten or Katie seeing Nat on campus (even if she didn't get to talk to him much) and both girls' job hunts. Those little things in life are what allow me to share in the unimportant daily things that make up so much of people's lives.

Once upon a time, I spent about a year writing a nice long newsy letter each week to family. I would photocopy it and send one to my in-laws and my folks and my aunt. Now, my blog accomplishes that for me, without photocopying and without paying the post office.

Blonde Joke

Following is my favorite Blonde Joke, taken from the Irreverent Joke Page of Backwoods Home Magazine.

In honor of Melynda, who accused me on Pr Petersen's blog of spending a whole evening at Jane's telling blonde jokes.

And for Sean (who likes jokes) and his lovely blonde bride-to-be Rebekah, who are eagerly anticipating Saturday's wedding.

And for some very smart blondes in Adell.


A blonde walks into a bank in New York City and asks for the loan officer. She says she’s going to Europe on business for two weeks and needs to borrow $5000. The bank officer says the bank will need some kind of security for the loan, so the blonde hands over the keys to a new Rolls Royce. The car is parked on the street in front of the bank. She has the title. Everything checks out.

The bank agrees to accept the car as collateral for the loan. The bank’s president and its officers all enjoy a good laugh at the blonde for being so dumb as to use a $250,000 Rolls as collateral against a $5000 loan. An employee of the bank then proceeds to drive the Rolls into the bank’s underground garage and parks it there.

Two weeks later, the blonde returns, repays the $5000 and the interest, which comes to $15.41. The loan officer says, "Miss, we are very happy to have had your business, and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little puzzled. While you were away, we checked you out and found that you are a multimillionaire. What puzzles us is why would you bother to borrow $5000."

The blond replies, "Where else in New York City can I park my car for two weeks for only $15.41 and expect it to be there when I return?"

Twenty Years Ago

Pastor Bender was ordained on this day, twenty years ago.

O eternal, merciful God, You have spoken through Your own dear Son, saying that the harvest is plentiful but the laborers few and that we should ask You, the Lord of the harvest, to send laborers into Your harvest. Hear now our prayer on behalf of Peter who is ordained and consecrated to be Your minister in the Church. Strengthen him mightily to take up the word of truth and faithfully to administer Your holy sacraments.

O Lord Jesus Christ, our great High Priest, who gave Your own life to be a holy and perfect sacrifice for us and for our salvation, grant Peter a heart zealous for Your people and boldness to guide, comfort, admonish, and serve Your congregation with gentleness and wisdom. Fill him, Your undershepherd, with Your love that in Your name he will seek the straying and bear up the weak. Give him the heart never to grow weary in the service of Your flock.

O Holy Spirit, strengthen and keep him in the Word of truth and life, and support him in every time of trouble and distress. Grant fruit to his labors and, when the day of labor is ended, grant him to come with rejoicing before Your presence to receive with all the saints his portion in eternal salvation.

Music and Lyrics

Upon recommendations of two daughters, my husband and I watched Music and Lyrics with Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore. It's a romantic comedy. The basic plot is that an 80s has-been pop star needs to come up with a song right now to supply to the hottest young blonde pop star of the day. The guy can write melodies, but not lyrics. Turns out that the lady watering his plants has a knack for putting words together in just the right way. So they begin to work together under an unreasonable deadline.

This is one of the funniest movies I've seen in a long time. The language is tamer than much of what's on prime-time tv. The unchaste behavior is implied but not seen, and sex is a very minor part of the plot. (There is, however, "dancing" that is typical of rock videos today.) No violence. We started laughing at the introductory scene which shows the hit music video of the 80s has-been fellow, and kept laughing throughout! This is one I'll want to see again.

My Lard-for-Soap

I HAVE NO MEMORY!!

If I were 80, my kids would be gathering the following evidence (and other stories like it) to prove that I am not safe in my home, and should be committed to the nursing home where somebody could keep an eye on me.

While Philip was fetching the side of beef from the butcher on Saturday, I was cleaning the frost build-up out of the deep-freeze. Because of space issues with the last couple of half-cows, I've had to use space in the church freezer. So the first thing I did was take the properly weighed-and-measured tallow and lard out of the freezer, stick it in the cooler, and plan to return it to whichever freezer had space for it.

Turned out that the cow was a smaller one. The soap ingredients could've gone back into my freezer here. But I was pressed to get lunch on the table. "I'll do it later. I'll remember. I have to try hard to remember. Of course I'll remember: if I don't I'll be tripping over the cooler in the garage."

I forgot.

I even tripped over the cooler. But did that ring a bell in my brain. NOOOOOO!

When I went to grab the cooler today for hauling home groceries, it was heavy. The tallow was still solid. But the lard had thawed, softened, and spilled. I managed to scoop up some still-not-liquified lard and put it in the fridge. But I had a LOT of liquid piggy-fat to clean out of the cooler.

We didn't leave for errands as early as I'd desired.

And now I have to reweigh my lard amounts.

AND I don't know if I can refreeze, or if I have to make a LOT of soap in the next couple of weeks.

Women Submitting?

On Sunday, a female friend was lobbying my husband for something she wanted accomplished at synodical convention next week. I disagreed. She asked me why and I explained the reasons. She disagreed.

She continued to press Gary to agree with her. Then I suggested that if Gary did it, he might come home to find the doors locked and the locks changed. ;-)

Our friend did NOT approve of that. She said that women are supposed to submit to their husbands. She said the husband was the head and that he should be making his own decisions.

It didn't occur to me until today: isn't it odd that he's supposed to listen to her, but not to me?

Tongue

Well, seeing as how Mom point-blank asked for an update, and because I suspect Katie and Rachel are wondering too....

We woke up this morning, and Rosie was still breathing. She'd rested comfortably through the night. We did the week's errands this morning -- and managed not to hit any cats as we left the garage.

Not long after we bought our last side of beef, Maggie discovered the Ramona videos at the library. They are FABULOUS! In one episode, Mom makes tongue for dinner because it's cheap and they're nearly out of grocery money at the time. Mom and Dad try to hide the identity of the meat from the kids, but tell the truth when asked directly. Ramona and Beezus flip out. As punishment, they get to make dinner the next night. Well, ever since, Maggie has wondered what tongue is like. She asked me to buy some. Now, I don't know about y'all, but around here you ain't gonna find tongue at the grocery stores. So when I bought me a cow last month [aside: I'm sure Mom and Rick and Sandy are humming a certain tune about now], I told the butcher that we wanted the tongue. We picked up the moo-cow on Saturday, and Maggie wanted tongue that very day. But I already had meals worked out, so the tongue had to wait til Tuesday.

We plunked the tongue in the crockpot for six hours on high, with a little barbecue sauce. Paul described it as somwhat like "meat pudding." The texture was indeed softer than most meats. So we offered some to Rosie, and she was SO happy to eat a bite. She's still not drinking. Last real amount of water she had was yesterday lunchtime. There's been no bleeding since bedtime last night.

The kitty has managed to sit herself up a couple of times. She's alert now and interested in what's going on around her. You can tell from her face that she's wanting to go pouncing and chasing. But she's not attempting anything yet. I have NO idea what we'll do to curtail her when she decides she's ready to go before she's actually ready to run. (Mom, I'm thinking about someone attached to a bed shortly after having a kidney removed, who decided he was ready to get up and walk.) Probably keeping her in a huge box is the best we'll be able to do. But for how long?

Other Jokes

God was talking to one of His angels. "I just figured out how to rotate the earth so that it creates this really neat alternating pattern of light and darkness." The angel said, "So what are you going to do now?" God answered, "Ah, I think I'll just call it a day."


Moses was talking with God. "So let me get this straight. They get to have all the oil deposits, and we get to cut off the tip of our what?"

Table

Yesterday we were the recipients of some real furniture. [The aforementioned] Lily and Claire have a great-grandma who's moving into a smaller place. We were the lucky ones who got a very very nice dining room table and chairs.

Our first dinner table was handed down through my mom's family. My grandparents had it. My mom and her sister both had it in their homes. I love it for the memories. I love it for the border around the table: the border served the purpose of keeping glasses away from the edge of the table, as well as making a nice roadway for Hotwheels for little boys. But the bracing near the floor didn't allow for the chairs we have now: we could sit only two chairs around the table. (Definitely not a sufficient quantity of chairs!) There was also the problem that my mom and aunt said the table wobbled enough that children would often be groused at for shaking the table when someone was writing. That table is now used for sewing.

Our second dinner table was purchased for $20 used. Not in great shape then, but it was intended to serve only as our schoolroom table. Here it is, 18 years later, and holding up the dinner plates. That table was relegated to the garage today, awaiting more sorting of furniture, hand-me-down clothes, and cleaning of closets.

With the table, we were given the table linens and a pad. We put it on, desiring to keep a piece of "real" furniture in nice shape. But then Andrew had a question. "Why do people have nice furniture if all they're going to do is keep it covered up to protect it?" Hmmm. Good question. I don't have an answer for that yet. Nevertheless, I have seen altogether too many accidents with markers and epoxy to leave beautiful wood available for daily abuse.

Accident

Things are quiet here today and tears have been shed. Maggie and I were headed out to do the weekly errands, and when I moved the car I heard a very loud cat-cry. I'm not sure what I hit, or with what wheel, or how it happened, but Rosie was injured. She cannot walk, and there's been bleeding from damage to internal organs.

She fell off the piano last week and bomped her way down, hitting the keys, the bench, and the pedals. When she'd somewhat recuperated from that, she slipped on the injured leg and messed it up again. And then last week she also fell in one of her crazy antics and got caught [hanged] in the cord to the blinds, from which she was instantaneously rescued.

Just yesterday my little goddaughter Lily and her sister Claire were pointing out that a kitty was missing from Pastor B's house. I assured them that the kitty was fine and was living at my house now. And now look what I've done.

If Rosie manages to sleep this off and recuperate (which I doubt) she will not have very many more of those nine lives left to squander.

1 Kings 19:10

Who said it?....

I have been very zealous for Yahweh God of hosts;
for the children of Israel have forsaken Your covenant,
torn down Your altars,
and killed Your prophets with the sword.
I alone am left;
and they seek to take my life.

As verse 18 indicates, Elijah was not entirely correct when he spoke those words. But those words actually were entirely true of Someone else.

And golly jeepers, look at where Elijah was saying those words. At the mountain of God. And he spent the night in a cave. Hmmmm.....

Henty: Lion of the North

Several years ago, Henty books were all the rage among some homeschoolers. Although some homeschoolers hated these historical fiction books, many were ga-ga over them. Some families said they were dry. Others said the books were full of adventure and had noble heroes and that the stories would help build character while being entertaining.

I wasn't interested. "So many books; so little time," y'know.

But we got to the point that I wanted to know more about the history of the Thirty Years War. The kids had no driving, desperate need to study a different time period in history, so we bought two Henty books set during the Thirty Years War. We also bought Genevieve Foster's The World of Captain John Smith which covers events throughout the world from 1580-1631. (We love these Foster books!)

So yesterday we finished our very first Henty book. It was okay. I have absolutely no desire to read other books of his unless it's something that will be hard to get information on. We'll be reading Won by the Sword to get the second half of the Thirty Years War. But I'm not going to bother with his books on Egyptian history or the Civil War.

Lion of the North was hard to read. There were so many characters to keep track of, so many battles, so many numbers thrown around (how many soldiers in each army, how many infantry, how many cavalry, how many dragoons). We heard more than we could absorb about the strategy and tactics and maneuvers of various battles. The vocabulary was way beyond me, but the boys helped me out with military terms, and we hauled out the dictionary frequently. Henty's sentences have as many subordinate clauses and prepositional phrases as does the Apostle Paul's writing. It took me till we were halfway through the book before I got the feel of it well enough to "edit on the fly" as we read. Forget making it understandable to the kids -- I needed to dumb it down so that I could understand. (Do you know how puny-minded I feel when I think that there are 12-yr-old homeschooled boys who read these books for jollies??)

All that said, though, it wasn't too bad a story. We learned about the era. The story was definitely a boy-story, but there was a wee touch of romance in there. I won't know until we read the next one, but I suspect that Henty was a "formula writer" from 150 years ago. Some parts of the story just didn't quite add up, but it was okay anyhow. We do need a break, though, before going on to the next volume. We have a math story to read, and a Freddy book, and the Foster history book on the time period.

Wedding

It's days like this when I really wish my friends weren't spread so far across the country. In times of celebration (or times of sorrow) you can't always be there to share in life's joys (or struggles).

Today is a day of joy for some dear Texans. Christ's blessings to Lynea and Jason as their lives are joined together!

Andy

Someone asked me a question about Andy. I drew a blank. Casting through the recesses of my brain, I couldn't for the life of me figure out who we were talking about or what the topic was. I couldn't even figure out anything in the conversation that could've led us to discussing this Andy-guy and what he was up to.

Finally I gave up. "Andy WHO?"

The person looked at me with the biggest "duh!" look on her face: "Well, your son, of course!"

My son is NOT Andy. He's Andrew. Of course, I can't hold the use of the nickname against somebody; lots of people do go by the shortened form. But still, please, they oughtn't be surprised when I don't know who they're talking about. Phil for Philip is something I can "hear" because it's the first half the name. Same for Sue. It usually registers in my brain when somebody says Sue that they're talking to me -- but seeing it in print still looks funny to me. But when somebody goes to Susie, that doesn't click in my brain at all. They may as well call me Gloria or Betty as to call me Susie; the response from me would be the same.

Couch Potato

Pastor talks about hanging onto God's word of promise against all evidence to the contrary. When he talks about how affliction "exercises" our faith, I'm not sure I want exercise. Unfortunately, sometimes I just want to be a couch potato. But nevertheless, what Pastor says is true. (And when you get to the last sentence, you realize that it is good.) Following is a brief excerpt from a recent Bible class:

He wants you to live by joyous confident faith in His mercy, even though you've got people that smack you down. In the story of the Canaanite woman (Mt 15), we have the experience in our life sometimes that He is not listening or not answering. What does this mean? Does it mean that He sometimes doesn't care? No. Does it mean that He sometimes has turned a deaf ear to us? No. Whatever it is that He allows us to pass through -- whatever it is! -- it is always to exercise our faith in His goodness, in His love, in the Gospel of His Son. Always! Our sinful reason and sinful flesh will never conclude this. Sometimes it might actually be salutary if we suffer a while, if we have a cross laid upon us for a while. Sometimes that teaches us to despair completely of ourselves. It is always the will of God in the face of such crosses to draw us ever closer to His Son.

Painting

Much to my dismay, people started in on the Bedroom-Painting Project earlier this week. We were going to do it a month ago, when the formerly 3-person bedroom was down to one occupant. But we hadn't gotten to it. This has been a joint venture like none in our home before. Maggie helped move out furniture on Monday. Walls were sanded on Tuesday by Gary. I washed walls and ceiling yesterday. Paul placed the masking tape last night. Andrew and I put on the Kilz around the edges, and Paul painted on Kilz with the roller. Maggie leaned against the wet wall, ruining a pair of pants and giving herself grey hair. If I can stay up late and do the coat of paint, maybe the kids will be able to start the Big Bedroom Switcheroo tomorrow.

I still can't decide whether to buy a queen-sized bed for the bigger bedroom, leaving a double bed in the smaller bedroom. Or if I should buy a twin bed for the small room, putting the double in the big bedroom. It'd be nice for company to have a queen bed. But Maggie really wants a desk in her room, and that room is just mighty snug for a double bed and a desk and a dresser (as Paul currently knows well).

I also arrived home this afternoon to find that the boys had cleaned the garage. It still needs some sorting and some stuff thrown away. But it's so much improved! So we have two big projects nearly done. (Only 497 big projects to go???)

Laundry Discontent

What if there were a child who could not pick up socks? What if that child could not manage to get any dirty clothes off the floor? What if that child, when about to be caught by the Big Bad Mother, decided to stuff dirty clothes, wadded up, into the drawer of clean clothes? (I know. I know. This is so far-fetched as to be almost unbelievable. But just stretch your imagination....) Imagine also that this child is so opposed to picking up clothes that sometimes it's just easier to throw clean clothes (perhaps something she tried on, or wore for 15 minutes) into the dirty-clothes hamper so that she doesn't have to be bothered with folding it and putting it away in her drawer or on a hanger.

The Big Bad Mother decides that it is important to teach such a child some basic self-care skills. The BBM thinks that learning to brush teeth and brush hair and pick up clothes is even more important than math and spelling. The BBM spends an entire school year making such simple skills the priority of the day, trying to pass on the responsibility for these skills to the child. After months, it appears that maybe a little of this is beginning to sink in. So the mother continues to back off slowly, checking up on the child periodically, and normally finding those skills slipping -- slowly at first, but then precipitously.

How can this be remedied? The logical solution would be to allow "natural consequences" (one of those buzzwords in parenting advice today). If the child does not put the dirty clothes in the hamper, child will have to do her own laundry. But she wouldn't. She is perfectly content to wear clothes with ketchup splotches and peanut butter smears. There's also the problem that the Big Bad Mother would have to buy more clothes for the child, so as to make a whole load of laundry, and not allow the child to wash 3 shirts, thus wasting water and electricity and detergent. Buying more clothes involves also finding more dresser-space to store such clothes. And more clothes just means that soon the bedroom dresser will no longer be resting on its feet, but perched precariously on the pile of clothing that has been smashed under it, causing it (to all outward appearances) to be levitating.

Another solution would be to engage in that whole "behavior modification" thing. But when the Big Bad Mother is already stressed with too much to do, too much to keep track of, too many places to be, too many lessons to teach, the last thing BBM needs is to be monitoring whether Messy Child gets a star or a demerit every 15 minutes. Besides, BBM already tried something like that, and as soon as the mother's constant involvement is curtailed, bad habits return like a stubborn weed.

Sometimes it seems entirely hopeless.

Icky Poo

As much fun as it is, nevertheless I think I never never never want Icky Poo in my house again. Working on painting a bedroom, I see the stains on the ceiling from Icky Poo games in past years. When I painted the living room, there was no way to eliminate those stains. Washing the ceiling, 3 or 4 coats of Kilz, and two coats of paint STILL didn't get rid of the Icky Poo marks.

Words Given

I am trusting Thee for power;
Thine can never fail.
Words which Thou Thyself shalt give me
Must prevail.

Are the words given to me
words put into my mouth?
Or words put into my ear by someone else's mouth?

And does anybody else find it interesting that God's power is found in the words given to us (presumably the words planted into our ears by our preachers, and not "given to us" to speak)?

Too Much Stuff

When Gary and I drove to town yesterday to drop off the Camry for repairs, we noticed a new little shop. It sells jet-skis. It's across the road from a store that sells pontoons and ski boats. A few miles away, closer to the lake, other stores sell the same big expensive toys. Just how many of these businesses can there be, without saturating the market?

For the last week, Maggie's been begging to buy a new purse. We must have a dozen purses downstairs that have come to us with hand-me-downs. And we have only a dozen because I keep hauling purses off to Goodwill. Maggie and I have been butting heads about whether she needs a purse, or whether she just wants to spend money for something new, anything new.

At dinner yesterday, we were discussing books and bookshelves. We like the library. No need to buy the books. No need to buy more bookshelves to hold books. No need to dust books. No need to keep track of what we buy. Of course, some books are needed, but we're usually happier borrowing them. So Maggie asked why Rachel keeps buying books and books and books.

We decided it was because Rachel has not yet come to the point of being oppressed by many possessions. But when I think about Maggie's desire for a new purse when she already has many, when I think about the jet-skis and snowmobiles and Harleys available, when I think about destination weddings, when I think about the advertisements and commercials that surround us,
I think not many people in this society realize possessions can bring oppression as easily as they can bring help and/or freedom.

Raspberries

A new couple at church moved here recently, and their property has lots of woods with lots of black raspberries in the undergrowth. They invited us out to partake of the bounty. The kids and I traipsed through the brambles and brought home nearly 2 gallons.

First project was jam. I tried to sieve the pulp to remove most of the seeds. Oh my goodness! That took forever. I spent over an hour just pressing pulp through the sieve. Seedy jam would've been finished a LOT faster. But boy oh boy, it's good.

Pie was the second project. It's cooling and looks delicious. But the overflow was the worst I've ever seen, and now the oven is on self-clean.

Grieving

Pastor was talking about Jesus, sorrowing in the Garden on Maundy Thursday, and how it wasn't lack of faith, but sorrow over those who would not believe and sorrow over being separated from the Father. Likewise, Jesus wept over Jerusalem. He also wept at the tomb of Lazarus. Pastor pointed out that Jesus knew that He was about to raise Lazarus from the dead, but still He wept.

We tend to think it's good to be tough in the face of death or other grief. We talk approvingly about the widow who doesn't cry during the funeral. We want people to "get over it" quickly. But what is this mystery that Jesus, the sinless Son of God, mourned ... even when He knew that Lazarus would be reunited with Him in a few minutes? I appreciated Pastor's firm reminders that people should be allowed to grieve at their own pace, and not be told that their grief is taking too long and that they should get on with life already. Whether it's death or some other loss that devastates a person, it only makes it worse to be told that "you're taking too long to get over this."

Jokes

The self-help group for compulsive talkers:
On and On Anon.

The PC term term for "beer belly":
Liquid Grain Storage Facility.

The girl brought her boyfriend home to meet her parents. He had greasy hair and a torn t-shirt and bad posture. He didn't shake hands when they met. He had a foul mouth. There was an air of hostility about him. After he left, the father worried to his daughter that the boy didn't seem like a very nice person. She responded, "Dad, if he weren't a nice person, why would he be doing 500 hours of community service??"

Psalm 91:3-4

Surely He shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler
and from the perilous pestilence.
He shall cover you with His feathers,
and under His wings you shall take refuge.

Fowlers catch birds.

We are the ones in danger of the snare. After all, the psalmist says that God will deliver us from the fowler's snare.

But when we look at verse 4, who has the feathers and the wings?

Who is the fowler really after?

Does this psalm say something about the incarnation? Does it say something about Christ taking our punishment, being trapped in our place?

And further, might it say something about the cross? We are covered by His feathers and hide under the shadow of His wings, and that IS our refuge. You normally think of a person rescuing birds from a net, not another bird. But if we hide under His feathers like little chicks hide under a momma hen's wings, then might His being caught also involve our being caught? Nevertheless, "the snare is broken. We are free. Our help is ever, Lord, in Thee who madest earth and heaven" (TLH 267).

The cross He bore is life and health,
Though shame and death to Him,
His people's hope, His people's wealth,
Their everlasting theme. (TLH 219)

Aloe

The experiment I wish I hadn't done --

A burn from the oven grate while I was working in the church kitchen. No aloe available. Wasn't that bad a burn. Ran icy cold water over it right away. Should've gotten the aloe from home, but had cooking and serving to do, so I didn't.

A couple of days later. A burn from charcoal. A much worse burn. Hotter item. Worse pain. Ran into the kitchen right away for aloe.

Watching those two burns heal was amazing. The second burn healed faster, hurt less, and left no scar. The second one -- the worse one -- healed in less than two weeks while the lighter burn took 5-6 weeks.

I learned my lesson. Take the time to get aloe on the burn right away.

A couple of years later, I inadvertently did the experiment again. (What? Did I not trust my scientific method the first time? Did we really need to repeat the experiment to verify results??) A stripe of a burn from the oven grate. (Yes, again!) Ran to get the aloe. Smeared it on. But the burn was bigger than I realized. I missed. I only managed to get aloe on half the stripe. Again, I observed the vast difference in the rate of healing. Two years later, I still have the scar from half that burn. The half that got the aloe, however, showed no sign of skin damage a few months after the injury.

This week when I ran the back of my hand against the oven grate (yes, again!!) I got the aloe and smeared it everywhere. I made a big ol' slimy mess all over my hand. The family had to wait an extra minute or so for dinner. But I have no pain, no blister, no scar. It's all healed already.

I think I'm learning.
And I hope my daughters have aloe in their kitchens!

(By the way, it does wonders for sunburn too. And I should make clear that I'm talking about real aloe: either out of an aloe plant's leaf, or store-bought 100% aloe. Not one of those creams with aloe in it.)

HSLDA Endorsement for President

I was stunned when a friend told me that the Home School Legal Defense Association has endorsed a presidential candidate. HSLDA has made some serious mistakes in the past. They purport to support homeschoolers, and yet they have no qualms about alienating huge batches of homeschoolers.

Homeschoolers must work together to protect their freedoms. No matter how strongly I support issues such as pro-life laws, simplifying the tax code, gun rights, or marriage, I do recognize that there are homeschoolers who disagree with me. If homeschoolers are willing to divide ourselves over social issues, we will begin to sell each other out (as HSLDA has been willing to do in the past).

I agree that a moderate Republican will probably not beat a Democrat. I'm not too terribly fond of the Republican Party, and my friend Scott loves to encourage us to learn more about the Constitution Party (which is for smaller government, even if it is too overtly Christian). HSLDA's claim that we need a true conservative on the Republican ticket is a valid claim. But there are other options beside the guy HSLDA is endorsing, who happens to be a governor who requires annual re-registration of homeschoolers with the government. Pr Eckardt suggests Fred Thompson as a Reaganesque candidate. I don't want to support any candidates at this point: right now it's necessary for my mental health to be rather ignorant of the campaigning.

But I do know one thing about the campaign. Any organization that wants to protect homeschooling freedoms ought not be endorsing candidates. A good way to defeat an enemy is to divide and conquer. Homeschoolers are willing to be our own worst enemies, dividing ourselves from within.

Hot Flashes

Warning: this is a girly post. Guys have been forewarned.

Several months ago, I somehow discovered that I usually only get hot flashes and night sweats when I eat in the evening. But of course, I forgot. (After all, these days I forget EVERYthing!) We eat dinner in the early afteroon. Sometimes I fast in the evening. Sometimes I have a couple of eggs and a slice of toast. Sometimes I have a smoothie, or a small amount of leftovers. Seldom a whole meal. So I had no experiences reminding me of this discovery I made.

This is not how the rest of America operates, however. Five nights in the last two weeks, I was out there, socializing in The Real World, and ate a whole meal at 7:00 or later. Every time I ended up soaking my jammies with sweat.

Now, I don't know if this is just me, or if this is something that effects most women. And even if it did, would most women even be able to adjust their meal schedule so as to alleviate hot flashes? And would it be worth it to forego dinner with the family, if evening is the only time the family can eat together? But if it's possible, it sure does seem like a much easier way to deal with night sweats than the standard drugs/hormones that people get from their doctors.

(Chalk up another bizarre little benefit to homeschooling: dinner mid-day!)

Twenty Years Ago

Twenty years ago, we had just become Wisconsin residents. We had Wisconsin plates on our car. We had Wisconsin drivers licenses in our wallets. We lived in the most beautiful parsonage in the South Wisconsin District, a house which had recently been selflessly vacated by the Wietings under the guise of desiring home ownership.

On Sunday afternoon, June 28, Gary was ordained into the Office of the Holy Ministry.

Almighty God, heavenly Father, You have called Gary into the work of Your vineyard and have lavished upon him Your grace and all manner of spiritual and eternal gifts. Help him to live to You in humility and patience, to hope in Your pure grace and faithfulness, to abide in Your house, and to praise and magnify Your glorious grace forever; through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.

Bad Puns

The human cannonball told the circus owner that he had to retire. He was too old to go on, night after night, being shot across the tent, into the net. But the owner objected, "Where am I going to find another man of your caliber?"

Why did Humpty Dumpty have a great fall?
Because he wanted to make up for a lousy summer.

Why was the archeologist depressed?
Because his career was in ruins.

What do you call a guy who never farts in public?
A private tutor.

Why should you never fly with Peter Pan?
Because you'll never never land.

Reconsidering Surgery

The date is fast approaching for Maggie's pre-op MRI. Her pharyngeal surgery is scheduled for mid-August. In the last few days, it has crossed my mind that she's not hard to understand anymore.

She came out of her heart surgery with her voice very hypernasal, as it was prior to her cleft-palate surgery years ago. After waiting several weeks, expecting improvement and finding very little, we made an appt with the ENT. By the time we saw him a month later, her voice had improved just a tiny bit. By the time we attended the Cleft Palate Clinic, nearly four months later, she was doing better yet. They discovered she does again have a hole in her palate, presumably something that changed as she's been growing. But now, here we are, three months later, and noticing that we seldom have to ask her to repeat herself. We usually understand what she says.

This may be because we are family and we've become used to less-than-stellar speech habits. I asked Anthea on Sunday how she was hearing Maggie, and she thought Maggs sounded perfectly understandable. When Nathan called today with happy news about a successful job hunt, Maggie answered. He thought it was me; he thought she was entirely understandable.

So here's my question. All you friends and family members who have chatted with Maggie in the last month, what do you think? If you were at the wedding or at CCA, did you notice any difficulty in catching what Maggie was saying to you? If you talked with her, and did NOT notice anything odd about her speech, if you did not have to puzzle out something she was saying, it would be very helpful to hear that. But don't be "nice" and say she sounds fine if she doesn't; that would just lead us down the wrong path.

Requested at the Library

Imperfect Homeschooler wrote a couple of months ago about The Dangerous Book for Boys. A week later, I was visiting a mutual friend, Jane, and that book was lying on the kitchen table. I picked it up and started flipping through it. It looks great!

My daughter Rachel (the former bookstore guru/junkie/employee) tells me that the book was flying off the shelves at Borders. The store could NOT keep it in stock in sufficient quantities to appease the customers.

So today I thought I'd see if I could pick it up at the library. I doubted that it would be checked in, given the vast popularity of the book.

IT'S NOT EVEN IN THE CATALOG!

Here's where it's nice to be persistent and pesty regular patrons and thus know the librarian. I asked about the book, and she was interested. She gave me a request form, so I could ask the library to purchase it. She'd never heard of the book, but thought it sounded pretty interesting. Then curiosity grabbed hold of the staff in the children's section. They decided to look up info on this Dangerous Book. The head librarian was amazed! She said most books will have about 15-20 available for libraries to purchase. This one has 2198 books available. I asked what that meant. Did it mean it wasn't selling very many? She said that it meant just the opposite. She said it's so popular that they have to keep a large stash of these books handy so as to get them out to the libraries. I think that in itself convinced her they needed some copies.

We made the request, so we get to read it before anyone else may check it out. I hope it doesn't arrive the same week as Harry Potter! We're top of the list for that too.

If anybody hasn't heard of this book yet, and would like to get a little taste of what it's about, Barbara linked to a Washington Post article about the author and his ideas that caused him to write this book. It's about boys being manly, and not being girly (quite the unusual notion in the last couple of decades).

Singing the Devil Away (17)

After Dr Kleinig finished discussing the hymn with us, he talked about the foundation of basic spiritual warfare.

God's law accuses. That is true. And it is good.

Satan is the Accuser. That's what his name means. It's what he does.

How do we make sense of God's good law accusing AND the devil wrongly accusing? Well, Satan accuses even beyond the law. He accuses us of things which the law does not condemn.

The other thing Satan does is remind us of the condemnation due us. He accuses, and his accusations are true. We know we are guilty. We know we have transgressed. We know that Satan is telling the truth [gasp!] when he accuses us of sin. The devil's accusations are not untrue, but his demand for our condemnation IS UNTRUE.

Jesus said, "I will convict the world of ... righteousness, because I go to My Father." The condemnation has been meted out upon Jesus, so the fact that we are guilty in the face of his accusations has absolutely no bearing on whether we stand condemned.

Jesus said, "I will convict the world of ... judgment, because the ruler of this world is judged." Who has been judged? Us? No. The Accuser.

The way to combat the devil is to agree with his accusations, but to stop him when he claims you must be condemned for your transgressions. For example, Luther said that we can tell the devil, "Thank you for pointing out that sin. I'd forgotten that one. Now I can thank Jesus for forgiving that one too."


While websurfing for the title of Kleinig's new book, I happened to run across an online transcript of John Kleinig's lectures at the Gerhardt symposium last month. It figures that I find it NOW, after having already summarized the two lectures. LOL.

White Flour

Cheryl wrote a post on her family's attempts at healthier eating. Her fourth point was about moving to more whole grains and less use of refined foods.

Piggy-backing on Cheryl's comments, I thought of what my friend Cheri told me about a research project. One group of lab rats was given whole-wheat bread and water. Another group was given white bread and water. The third group was given just water. The rats without food were NOT the ones who died first. The ones with just water died second. Kinda scary....

Gallant

We're reading our first Henty book. The word gallant appears frequently. I just kept guessing at how to pronounce the word, because I'd heard both the first and second syllables stressed. So today I did a novel thing: I looked it up in the dictionary.

So, in case y'all are confused as I was, here's the deal. When the word means noble or brave or stately or handsome, then it's pronounced GAL-lunt. When the word is used to mean that a man is courteous toward women, polite, and attentive to them, accompanying a woman in a mannerly way, then he is gal-LONT.

Singing the Devil Away (16)

The last stanza of Let Me Rise is where Gerhardt finally renounces the depression, as he was encouraging himself to do in the first stanza.

He doesn't deny the reality of the depression.
He doesn't hang onto the depression.
Instead, he sings the devil away.

Dr Kleinig reminded us that the practice of piety involves praying/singing doctrinal hymns and devotional hymns. These hymns teach the heart to sing what is true and what is right, regardless of how we feel. Doctrinal hymns used in our devotions will carry us through times of sorrow and of joy, times of health and of illness, times of highs and lows. Our piety is dependent upon the objective truth of God's word and what He has done to save me. When we sing about it, we are preserved in the faith.

These hymns chase the devil away.

These hymns bring comfort to beseiged Christians. The "comfort" isn't about feeling better. Rather, the comfort is found where doctrine strengthens the soul, where doctrine vivifies faith. God's word sung and prayed will have its effect, regardless of how it hits our emotional state.

Singing the Devil Away (15)

God treats Christian people well
Even in their troubles.
Those who cry a while on earth
Will not wail forever.
They will take complete delight
In Christ's heavenly garden
Which He has prepared for them
For their full enjoyment.

Though God's children sow with tears
In a time of sorrow,
Yet at last the year brings on
All that they have longed for.
After winter comes the time
To bring in the harvest;
Then their pain and trouble bear
Fruit in joy and laughter.

Dr Kleinig pointed out that Paul Gerhardt was speaking from experience here. He was not arguing doctrine in the last four stanzas. Rather, he was just expressing the highs and lows of life that he had experienced. Satan takes these lows and exaggerates them, bringing on depression.

Dr Kleinig talked about the cross being the secret to managing depression and finding joy in life. God uses our sins to refine us. Our sorrow can even increase our capacity for enjoyment of life. In other words, the anfechtung is both good and bad (as is Jesus' cross) and is used by God for our blessing.

The Moral of the Story

Rachel came over today for Maggie's birthday party. She brought Hero, her new kitten, which is the sister of our new little Rosie kitten. Even if they didn't remember each other after their two weeks apart, we hoped they'd enjoy playing with another kitty. After all, Rosie wants so badly to play with our middle-aged cat, which will have nothing to do with her.

But Rosie has learned from Athena how to behave when there's another cat around. Hiss. Spit. Growl. And bop the interloper with your paw. So Hero was trying to be friendly and play, but Rosie would have none of it.

The moral of the story? Socialization is best accomplished by not learning bad habits from others. Hero, who lived with her family and then went to live alone with her people, knows how to be nice. Rosie had to fit into a pecking order, and learned to hit and growl.

So what do human children learn when they're thrown into a pecking order at school?

Job Hunting

Seems like everybody is looking for jobs. Two daughters are applying for jobs in their new towns. One son-in-law is still waiting to hear back on a job that he is hoping is a sure thing. And one son is considering using his next couple of weeks (while the plant is shut down temporarily for lack of work) to job hunt up in the city. While some of us have more to do than can possibly be taken care of, my kids are getting bored!

There's a lot of the traditional frustration with not being able to get a job without experience. And "needing" to have the college degree to do a job for which they were eminently qualified by the time they graduated from high school. The new-fangled online way of applying for jobs doesn't even give a person a chance to make a good impression by how she's dressed or her interpersonal skills on meeting the boss.

You Know It's Humid When ...

you're hanging up your daughter's half-birthday streamers, and they start to sag. I mean, by the time you have half the roll hung across the ceiling, some of the swags are scraping your head as you walk through the room. And by the time you're done with one whole whoppin' roll of streamers, everybody has to duck their way through the living room.

By the time we get to the birthday pie, I suspect the cats will be able to bat around the streamers that we'll be stepping over instead of ducking under. So much for putting them on the ceiling!

Singing the Devil Away (14)

Children whom a father trains
In what's good and wholesome,
Seldom grow and flourish well
Without firm correction.
So if I am God's dear child,
Why should I resist Him
Who instructs me from my sins
To receive His blessings?

I mentioned at the end of the last post that the cross will come, but that it is good. Not only outside afflictions, but even our sins, serve to teach us to receive God's blessings. Anything that crushes us and our self-esteem and our pride in ourselves makes us ever more dependent on a Savior who has done everything for us, leaving nothing undone, leaving nothing in our hands to accomplish. (And that's the only place where we're safe, when nothing is left to our own doing.)

Pr Weedon recently posted a bunch of quotes from our Confessions regardingthe benefits of affliction. Pr Stuckwisch has recently posted some excerpts from Luther on Galatians on the oppression of our sins and our feelings about our trials. And Pr Fenton has a story on wisdom from Elder Paisios that touches on why we don't always enjoy the amendment of life we would desire but instead continue to struggle.

Y'know, given enough years struggling with your sinful nature, and enough years of reveling in the absolution, and enough years of having a faithful pastor talk about the benefits of bearing your cross, a person can almost begin to agree with Paul (!) when he says wildly bizarro things like "Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake. For when I am weak, then am I strong" (2 Corinthians 12:1-10). Because, after all, "Why should I resist Him who instructs me from my sins to receive His blessings?"

"Singing the Devil Away" (13)

Back to the Gerhardt hymn translated by Kleinig...

I am God's and He is mine;
Who can ever part us?
Even if the cross slips in
painfully between us,
let it be because it comes
from my God who loves me,
making, in His time, a door
open up before us.


I started noticing that "I am yours, and you are mine" was often used in connection to wedding rites. It's used between lovers. It's in Shakespeare and in Luther. It's in modern love songs. It's also used in some monastic vows.

The phrase comes up in hymns. "Lord, my Shepherd, take me to Thee. Thou art mine; I was Thine, even ere I knew Thee" (from Why Should Cross and Trial Grieve Me). "Thou art my heart's most beautous Flower, and Thy blest gospel's saving power my raptured soul engages. Thou mine, I Thine. Sing hosanna" (from How Lovely Shines the Morning Star).

The previous stanza of Gerhardt's hymn reflects on Satan's utter inability to override what God has established. This stanza goes on to be explicit about what God has established: that we are joined to Him. And even if trouble should come [if? ha! when is more like it...] it will work for our good.

Acts of Mercy

A question came up in Bible class recently. It was about acts of mercy, philanthropy, charitable deeds. The following comment does not in any way suggest kindness be withheld from one group of people or another. But it is nevertheless an interesting observation.


About a year or two ago, Pastor did some really intense study on the book of Acts. He says that nowhere in the book of Acts were "acts of mercy" done for anyone except the fellow-Christians.

CCA

The dates for next year's catechetical symposium are June 18-20. Put it on your calendar now. It really doesn't matter what the topic is, because you need to come regardless of the topic, as my dear friend makes clear. But for those whose curiosity overwhelms, the topic will be catechesis under the fifth commandment, particularly on "life issues."

Wasted Tax Dollars

We were at a very nice hotel for the last couple of days for a symposium. It's one of those hotels that draws a lot of business by renting out ballrooms, meeting rooms, conference rooms, etc.

I noticed that one of the large meeting rooms was being used by a government agency. They were together for "grant reading" to decide which grants to choose to fund.

WHY?

There's a very nice building in Madison. It's called the state capitol. It has lots of rooms. There's also the office building in Madison set aside for this agency. But no, they had to get people together elsewhere and pay for the rooms.

Why do I suspect that somebody wanted to make a vacation out of their duty to sort through grant proposals?

I Am the Vine

The Gospel reading for last night's Divine Service was from John 15. I don't know why I never noticed this until last night. Maybe it's because of going to vineyard country near St Catharines. Maybe it's because I've been trying to figure out what to do about pruning my grape vines.

Jesus is the vine.

Vines are held up by wood posts. Or trees. Hmmm.

Moving

For the sake of Katie's grandmas, aunts, mother-in-law, etc, I'm giving a report.

Gary, Paul, Andrew, Maggie, and I arrived Thursday morning to help carry boxes and furniture. Rachel had arrived a little earlier. Nathan and Katie hadn't wanted to impose by asking for help loading the rental truck. But when he saw how long it was taking him to move the pile of boxes outdoors, and how fast that pile zipped outdoors after The Help arrived, they were glad for the family who'd invited themselves over to assist.

Nathan learned that when they say you should use small boxes for books, they really mean small.

Gary and I were very impressed with the packing job the kids had done. They had nearly everything loaded into boxes and organized before we got there. For a first move, they sure had their act together!

Most of the family went home late Thursday afternoon. I shampooed the carpet and Katie thoroughly cleaned the place; she wants the whole security deposit back! We left about 8:00 and stopped in northeastern IN at a hotel. We drove the rest of the way to Fort Wayne on Friday morning.

I learned that stopping for food is more important than diligently loading a truck. And I learned that stopping at the grocery store to grab some fruit and lunchmeat should take priority over unloading a truck, even if you have to get it back to the rental facility.

We took an interesting little detour through Ft Wayne in the moving van. I did not realize that Katie and Nathan had rented the place, site unseen. I thought he was headed in an odd direction through town, but assumed he knew where he was going. Turned out that he was waiting for me to tell him which roads to take. Well,... we managed to get wherre we belonged by blundering our way through town without a map, just by the "feel" of the roads and going on intuition and a little bit of what I remembered from driving around the Fort when I've been there for symposium.

I can't even count the number of times Nathan exclaimed, "This is so great. It'll probably be the nicest place we'll ever live!" The complex is nice. The apartment is nice. Both bedrooms are about the size of our bedrooms here. The living room is about the size of ours. The kitchen is much smaller, but has as much counter space and cupboard space as my kitchen (maybe more). Katie is excited to see a full-size fridge and a full-size stove. The bathroom has two sinks and a washer-dryer. One bedroom has a walk-in closet. There's a nice little patio for sitting and/or grilling. It's just a very nice place. What blows my mind is that the apartment complex probably has more homes and a higher population than any of the villages near us.

The kids had heard that the apt complex is nice, but that sometimes it can be very rowdy, with loud neighbors. I think they aren't going to have a problem with that. It looks like there are groups of college kids in other nearby buildings. But their row of buildings seems to be populated with senior citizens and young married couples. About 15 minutes after we arrived, a fellow of about 70 meandered out of his apartment, took up residence on his patio, and kept an eye on our unloading. Some of his buddies showed up and watched the entertainment too. All I can hope is that these guys continue to prove themselves to be like my dad; if so, Katie and Nathan will have good grandpa-neighbors around!

The biggest problem of my weekend was figuring out whether I wanted to be at the kids' apartment or at Jane's house for the homeschool-mom party. I much too thoroughly enjoyed whichever group I was with at the moment!

When it was time to go on Sunday morning, I said farewell to the kids and started to choke up. Gosh, it's harder to leave them when they're 225 miles away than it is when they're 50. But Melody and Wendi (with whom I was riding back to Illinois) were with me, and there was plenty of chattiness going on in the car, and I managed not to cry over leaving them.

Kitty Wars

Rosie's been here ten days now. It is now possible for Athena and Rosie to coexist in the same room for a short period of time, often without any hissing on Athena's part. Of course, this is only if wee-kitten remembers that old-cat's tail is not a toy for her pouncing amusement.

Wee-kitten has been bopped by an angry paw a time or two, and is thus beginning to learn that it is not always wise to treat old-cat the way wee-kitten had been tumbling around her mother.

Athena (old-cat) has been pretty irritable and cranky with us too, for having had the audacity to allow the interloper to remain. When it stormed the other night, she preferred to stay outside in the rain, hunched in a corner of the porch where she wasn't quite managing to stay dry, rather than to consent to come indoors where the Wild Thing was.

Today while I was jogging, I saw the first glimmer of Athena being her old self. She saw me outdoors, ran up to me, smooched my legs, wanted to be petted, and enjoyed (for the first time in ten days) getting scratched in her favorite spot. Of course, we were 200 feet from the house, hidden away at the far end of church, where we could pretend like Rosie never existed.... but, hey, it's a step in the right direction. Athena actually wanted to be petted again, and I was beginning to wonder if that'd ever happen.

Quick Update

I was gone for four days, helping kids move and playing with friends. (Jane and Polly have pictures.) Back here for two days, then out of town for three more, back home for one, and out of town for another day. Lots to do next week, but no trips more than 90 minutes away. Phew!

In the two days between trips, I
did laundry,
changed the bedding,
cleaned the house,
caught up on some undone dishes from the weekend,
answered the phone for church a lot,
did the weekly errands and shopping,
chatted with grown-up kids,
caught up on mail,
made gumbo (which makes for happy dinner companions, who thus are not sapping my energy by pretending -unsucessfully- not to be dissatisfied with their food),
played Apples to Apples,
made bread,
did some schoolwork with the kids (but only a couple of hours),
repaired some damage to the garden,
did the banking and took care of the bills and budget.

Almost everybody had places to be this afternoon, and I was going to be home alone for several hours. I had hoped to spend a lovely afternoon luxuriating by editing out in the sunshine and fresh cool air. Andrew told me that I always have too much on the to-do list and never finish it when I have a few hours to myself. He's right. I looked at that list and tried to tell myself that it was going to be okay (yes, really, it would be okay!) when I got to the end of the day and had accomplished less than a third of the items. But -- amazingly enough! -- the list is nearly done. And I'm thrilled. So now I'm ready for symposium and also for an ordination this weekend.

Gone for a While

Three kids have moved to Milwaukee. It wasn't hard for me to say goodbye to them when they were only 50-80 minutes away. But today we help pack up a kid who'll be going two states away. This is going to be different.

At least I can look forward to food, wine, chocolate, and giggling friends this weekend. It just so happened that the U-Haul unloading weekend landed on the same day, in the same city, as the Mamapalooza with a bunch of homeschooling friends. Helping the kids with packing/unpacking is how I'm justifying my goof-off trip. I feel a little guilty for leaving my husband to cook for the crew, and to fetch my broken car back from the mechanic, and to do my paper route for me. And I feel guilty for stalling on the next physics chapter and starting the Algebra 2 book with Paul. But I can justify it for now by claiming that I'm helping Nathan and Katie. Yes I am. I don't want to indulge myself with friends. No. Of course not. I'm just doing it to be nice to the kids.

(Do ya buy that??)

"Singing the Devil Away" (12)

Gerhardt's song then goes on to make plain that first-article gifts are not enough to counter depression. They are good. They are evidence of what God does out of love for us. But gifts of food and clothing and home cannot counter the devil's attacks. The only antidote to depression is the song of God's Word and the Holy Spirit's enlightenment.

Stanza 10 speaks in sensual terms (as Dr Kleinig mentioned earlier). We taste the doctrine that we long to hear and by which we are refreshed. And when the Holy Spirit opens our minds, then our senses absorb His lovingkindness.

Stanza 11 echoes so many Easter themes. And Epiphany themes. The light in the darkness. The prophets' and the apostles' message. The peaceful conscience which is a peace "not as the world gives." And that these words of the scriptures are the only thing that brings assurance.

Stanza 12 recalls the firm foundation referred to in the previous stanza, and how the devil's efforts cannot topple what God has built. The devil's plans will collapse, but all his railing against God's work will not be able to undo it.

Huntress?

Good grieeeeeef!

Gary about stepped on a toad near the front stoop this evening. "Ah ha," I think. "An opportunity for wee cat to chase something alive." Granted, nobody wants to bite a toad. But still, the chase would be good for her. (Especially since I have had to kill two mice in the last 24 hours all by myself. And this AIN'T MY JOB. It's the cats' job!)

Well, either this is a very smart and camoflauged toad ... or this is a defective kitty. This kitty's grandma was the awesome huntress who taught Athena to be such a good mouser (and possum-chaser, and bunny-murderess, and fowler, etc). I would've thought Rosie would have a grand time pouncing at the toad. I didn't think she'd actually do it damage, though.

But, c'mon! She crouched into a pouncy stance, twitched her tail, and stared. No pounce. Finally she walked over and touched noses to the toad.

She better be more effective when tempted with mice and groundhogs!

Silver Chair

When I first read the whole Narnia series, I loved it. There were stories in the series I liked better than others, of course.

The thing I've found, though, is that one of my less-favorite books, the Silver Chair, is the one I'm growing to love more than ever. It touches on the idea about repeatedly reciting the words from God. And there's so much in there about believing the Word against all evidence to the contrary. And doing what Aslan called them to do, regardless of the outcome. And of course, Aslan's faithfulness to them in spite of their failure to obey. And Puddleglum's declaration that he would prefer to live in his imaginary world with a sun than in the "real" underground world of the queen.

When Maggie pops that BBC show into the VCR, I hear something new and rich each time.

"Singing the Devil Away" (11)

The next verses of Gerhardt's hymn make the case that God's first-article gifts are evidence that He cares.

Stanza 7 says that it's a lie that God doesn't accept us, and that He would not have given all these good things if He were displeased with us. Stanza 8 points out that everything in creation was designed to serve me. Stanza 9 comments on the rain and grass and food that God uses to delight us.

"Singing the Devil Away" (10)

Let the devil rant and rage;
death has lost its danger.
God protects me from his threats
with His grace and favor.
Since He honors me and loves
me as He loves Jesus,
all the devil's scornful taunts
will not make me gloomy.


Just look at all the lines in common with Gerhardt's Advent hymn!

"What though the foes be raging,
heed not their craft and spite.
Your Lord, the battle waging,
will scatter all their might."

and "I stood, my shame bemoaning,
Thou com'st to honor me."

and "Rejoice, then, ye sad-hearted,
who sit in deepest gloom."

And this Gerhardt stanza also reminds us of the ever-so-precious Christmas hymn by Luther (which didn't make it into LSB): "What harm can sin and death then do? The true God now abides with you! Let hell and Satan rage and chafe: Christ is your Brother; you are safe."

Entertainment

A hundred years ago, people did not have tv, movies, or video games.

But they did not spay their cats either. I think watching little kitties is all the entertainment anybody would ever need! We've had so much fun the last couple of days, watching Rosie attempt to master skills, explore her new environment, and just be cute. There's just nothing to do but laugh gleefully when the kitten suddenly pops out of nowhere and tears madly through the house, practicing her Bursts Of Speed. Or when she decides she MUST learn to run up the stairs with gracefulness, but keeps missing and bonking her head when she didn't jump high enough. And yet she perseveres.

Maybe instead of valium and antidepressants, we need more KITTENS to nap in our laps and entertain us with their antics. Hooray for kittens! (Hmm. Maybe we shouldn't get Rosie spayed when she's older, after all.)

"Singing the Devil Away" (9)

Still singing to the TLH tune for "Come, Ye Faithful, Raise the Strain"...

Jesus is my innocence,
righteousness, and glory.
He has gained from me a place
where I live in safety,
like a fortress so secure
that no foe can conquer.
Even hell's artillery
cannot break and take it.

Dr Kleinig pointed out that Gerhardt lived during the time of the Thirty Years War. Previously, fortresses provided protection during war. But gunpowder and cannon had been developed to such a point by this time that cannon would break down the thick walls of castles. So this verse hearkens back to the idea that there actually is an impenetrable fortress where we can find security and safety from our enemy.

"Singing the Devil Away" (8)

If I've sinned and done what's wrong,
Then I say I'm sorry.
My one antidote for guilt
Is the blood of Jesus.
That's the ransom for my soul
From all evil-doing.
If I show it at God's throne,
I have His approval.

Notice that the "I'm sorry" is spoken, but is not the antidote for guilt. Contrition goes hand-in-hand with faith, but is never the thing that gives assurance of forgiveness. The only thing that rescues us from evil-doing (and from the guilt associated with it) is Jesus' blood.

The last couple of lines remind me of "In Thee Alone," where it says about Christ's death and sacrifice:
Lord, show before the Father's throne
That Thou didst for my sin atone.
So shall I from my load be freed.
Thy Word I plead.
Keep me, O Lord, each hour of need.

"Singing the Devil Away" (7)

The Gerhardt hymn "Let Me Rise" goes on with the Christian's response to the devil's accusations. The venom has been removed from Satan's bite. It is the cross of Christ which has crushed Satan's head and provides for us the feast in heaven.

I will shake my head and say:
"Flee, you snake, you dragon!
You can't strike me with your sting.
You can't make me fearful!
Christ has crushed your toxic head
with His painful passion.
He has snatched me from your reach
to His hall for feasting.

"If you tell me I have sinned,
I will answer boldly:
I don't take my lead from you
for my self-appraisal.
Who has given you the right
to condemn God's people?
Aren't you now already stuck
in hell's fiery fury?"

Then the song goes on to tell Satan that he has no right to throw our sin in our faces. And it reminds us of the communion hymn: "Who can condemn me now for surely the Lord is nigh who justifies." And Romans 8: "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." And the lines from "God's Own Child": telling Satan to "drop his ugly accusation" and "now that to the font I've traveled, all your might has come unraveled."

They say "the winner writes the history." It's true. But that never stopped the devil from trying to rewrite history from his own perspective. They also say that if you repeat a lie often enough, people will believe it. That's what the devil is aiming for with his accusations!

Here, Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!

Andrew has been such a help recently. He has been growing up and maturing. He's also been yearning desperately for a cat of his own for about 4-5 years. So on Saturday (somewhat as a reward) we brought home the sister of Rachel and Matt's kitty.

Rachel tells us that Hero is the lively one and Rosie is the calm one. It's been fun, watching Rosie play and explore and learn, and then flop down exhausted and snooze. One of the kids exclaimed, "And Rachel says this is the CALM one?" Yup yup yup: that's how toddlers are!

Rosie is named in honor of Samwise Gamgee's fair bride. For pictures, check out my husband's very first blog post that's not about theology.

Train

We attended a lovely wedding yesterday of some young friends. In addition to the worship and prayers, in addition to the nice party, there was a little bit of tugging on the heart-strings. This was the first time I remember being back at that church after Pastor Wiest's funeral there.

For the wedding, we sang the beautiful Starke wedding hymn, part of which goes:
Jesus, You have made her holy,
pure and fair her radiant train.
To Yourself Your church presenting
without wrinkle, spot, or stain.

That one word train threw me back to one of the songs that always reminds me of Pr Wiest: "The Son of God Goes Forth to War" (the second verse of which is about St Stephen). Each stanza ends with "who follows in his train?"

We've sung this wedding hymn several times in the last year, and until yesterday, I never thought about the train of the apostles, prophets, martyrs, and all saints. I always just thought of a bride's dress, the beautiful wedding clothes, pure and fair, without stain, as the Apostle writes about the Church in Ephesians 5. ("And there, in garments richly wrought, as Thine own bride I shall be brought to stand in joy beside Thee.")

But do these words not also call to mind the whole Church, all the blessed saints who have gone on before, as well as those who will come after, joined with us? "A noble army, men and boys, the matron and the maid, around the Savior's throne rejoice, in robes of light arrayed. They climbed the steep ascent of heaven, through peril, toil, and pain. O God, to us may grace be given to follow in their train."

Basic Meaning "Fallacy"

I've been accused of thinking that words have basic meanings which are constant throughout its uses. For example, we often hear that the word bat has a variety of meanings: the flying mammal, the stick used to hit a ball, or what a coquettish girl does with her eyelashes. I maintain that those are all the same word, having something to do with an item being fanned back and forth. A bat's wings go back and forth. So do the girl's eyelashes. So does the stick when it's swung in the strike-zone. So even though we use them as different words, all those words have one essential meaning, one basic meaning. I don't see any "fallacy" in this.

Another example is the word train. A bride's dress has a train. A choo-choo is usually called a train. And then there's the train (or retinue) who came with the Queen of Sheba to hear Solomon. The common theme here is the thing that follows along in a row, following the lead item.

Short Jokes

The folks who are on Martin Loopers have already seen these, as they're Kari's sig-lines. But this is for Sean....

I couldn't figure out why the Frisbee was getting bigger, and then it hit me.

Don't argue with idiots; they will bring you down to their level and beat you with experience.

Cats are smarter than dogs. You can't get eight cats to pull a sled through the snow.

The nicest thing about not planning is that failure comes as a complete surprise and is not preceded by a period of anxiety.

I tried sniffing coke once, but the ice cubes got stuck in my nose.


And for a longer read that nevertheless provides a good healthy laugh at someone else's family realities (not that ANYTHING like this could EVER happen in MY house!) check out Pr Petersen's story about their idyllic morning.

"Singing the Devil Away" (6)

Dr Kleinig suggested that the response to Satan's accusations is to call the devil's bluff. Satan says there is no hope for a sorry sinner like me. He says there is forgiveness only for Christians, but surely I am no Christian. He says the troubles of my life are proof that God doesn't care about me. But it's all a lie. All a bluff. All a scam.

Paul Gerhardt's hymn "Schwing dich auf zu deinem Gott" was recently translated by Dr Kleinig. It is a "song of comfort in dpression and temptation." (By the way, it is sung to the tune of the same title, known among American Lutherans as TLH 204.)

Rise, my soul, up high to God
from the pit of sadness!
Why remain down there, depressed?
Why despise His goodness?
Can't you see the devil's tricks,
scheming to attack you?
He is set to fog and hush
all Christ's words of comfort.

Joy is indicative of our life in Christ. Depression is the result of the devil's attacks. When a soul is oppressed, the sinful nature will hang onto the depression and turn away from God's joy.

VCFS Article

There was a great article on VCFS in the Washington Post on Wednesday. Maggie has VCFS, and this article is a nice little introduction to the syndrome.

Precision in Language

I picked up a short video series at the library this week on The Story of English. Last night's episode discussed the many different languages were brought into Old English, resulting in subtle nuances to the different words. Words which are nearly synonymous aren't quite, but lend precision to the language.

I think that's one thing I like so much about English. You can get just the right word. When I try to communicate in sign language, there's so much I struggle to say. I might know the right sign for a word, but it's not exact enough, and that frustrates me.

Stress Relief

Barbara links to an online calculator to help determine whether a wife's job actually adds income or costs the family more than she earns.

One item I found interesting was the cost of items purchased to relieve job stress. Examples were liquor and double lattes. I can understand the treats for stress relief. I know I yearn for Culvers or Snickers more when things are rough. But maybe the amount of things I can manage to do without is in indicator that our boring little life in the boring little country is a LOVELY thing!

My version of stress relief is usually reading aloud to the kids or watching a romantic comedy. Much cheaper than Starbucks. (Oh no! Now all my Starbucks-loving friends are going to be pelting me with rotten tomatoes!)

Puns

I love to laugh. And I love puns. I even love bad puns. I highly recommend that any of you who share my weakness take a peek at Barbara's blog where she has 29 puns, most of them really good, and a few groaners worthy of a smile.

My favorites were:

If you don't pay your exorcist, you can get repossessed.
A plateau is a high form of flattery.

"Singing the Devil Away" (5)

Satan will use anxiety, doubt, despair, depression, shame, self-pity, etc, to drive us from Jesus. The temptation to despair is to believe that there is no hope, no comfort, no forgiveness, for me. Sure, there is forgiveness for sinners, but surely not for me.

When depression and shame overwhelm us, we need to listen to Jesus. His voice will hush the voice of Satan. But when we do not listen to Jesus (either through neglect in prosperous days, or because of doubts and despair in painful days), then the voice of Satan will fill the void. His accusations will taunt if we are not hearing the comforting voice of the Savior.

During these times of spiritual warfare, we pray for the Holy Spirit to sustain us in the Word, and to keep us in contact with the Word.

We also rely on the angels to protect us from demonic attack. They pray for us. They guard us (especially in the dangers of the night). The angels too "sing the devil away from us" by preaching God's Word in the unseen realms.

I walk with angels all the way.
They shield me and befriend me.
All Satan's power is held at bay
When heavenly hosts attend me.
They are my sure defense;
All fear and sorrow hence!
Unharmed by foes, do what they may,
I walk with angels all the way.

"Singing the Devil Away" (4)

Between our trip to the Gerhardt symposium and our daughter's wedding, I typed up some notes on Dr Kleinig's lecture Singing with Devotion, Dr Krispin's lecture Confession of Christ in Song and Sacrament, as well as starting to think through Dr Kleinig's lecture on Singing the Devil Away. Now that we've begun to recuperate from the hustle and bustle of the wedding, maybe I can work my way through the rest of my notes from the Canada trip.

In Genesis 3, we hear about the serpent. Dr Kleinig pointed out that serpents bite. Satan will harm us. He will bite. We will sin. Satan will accuse. He will tempt us not only to sin, but to believe that there is no forgiveness for us when we do sin.

We are also harmed when others inflict pain upon us through no fault of our own. These too are wounds (bites) from the serpent Satan.

But Satan's venom has been removed. When he bites and harms us now, there is no poison in his attacks. Christ took upon Himself all the poison that Satan had. He accepted the venom into His own flesh.

So, even though Satan bites and harms, it is not deadly. He may damage us, but the sting has been removed.


It was a strange and dreadful strife
When Life and Death contended.
The victory remained with Life;
The reign of Death was ended.
Holy Scripture plainly saith
That Death is swallowed up by Death,
His sting is lost forever. Alleluia!

Jam Recipes

Cherry (makes 6 cups)
2.5 # bag of frozen (and pitted) pie cherries
1/2 teaspoon butter
3 cups sugar
1 package Sure-Jell Light


Orange (makes 5 cups)
12-oz can frozen orange juice concentrate
2.6 cups water
3 cups sugar
1/2 teaspoon butter
1 package Sure-Jell Light
(Cook for longer than time given in Sure-Jell recipe; test doneness by cooling a bit rapidly by placing 1/2 tsp of jelly into a small cup that's been sitting in the freezer. Also, skim foam before pouring into jars!!)


Hawaiian Punch (makes 7 cups)
12-oz can frozen apple-passionfruit-mango juice concentrate
6-oz can frozen apple-kiwi-strawberry juice concentrate
3 cups water
1/2 teaspoon butter
4 cups sugar
1 package Sure-Jell Light
(Make according to direction in pectin-box, except make the last boil 90 seconds instead of 60 seconds.)

Jelly-Mom Strikes Again

A few years ago, the jelly-making got out of control. Several batches of strawberry, a couple batches each of peach and plum, quite a few batches of blackberry, several batches of grape, and pretty soon there were more than 100 jars of jelly sitting in the basement. Now, c'mon, we may like jelly, but two jars per week? Nah....

So I have been trying valiantly to control my jelly-making urges.

Recently, the guys told me there wasn't much jelly left. It's early June. Surely we could hold out a few more weeks till the strawberries are ripe.

We couldn't. Today we finished the last jar. And the strawberry farms aren't open yet.

Okay. Okay. We'd make jelly. But it had to wait until after grocery-shopping. (After all, I don't think they wanted couch-cushion jelly, or pencil jelly, or jelly made of any of the other non-food items I had in hand. So a trip to the market was in order.)

Now, which kind of jelly to make to see us through till strawberry time? Hmmm. Just one flavor? We're used to switching off. (How spoiled are we???) I decided on cherry and a punch-ish flavor. But when I got home, Paddington here wanted orange marmalade. We agreed to make orange jelly without the little orange pieces in it that morph jelly into marmalade.

So tonight we made three batches. Eighteen jars of jelly. I guess that will see us through a few weeks till the strawberries are ripe.

Why can I not stop making jam once I start?

Make-Up

My mom is pretty.

When my husband first met my folks, Mom was 42 and Dad was 46. My husband thought my mom was so pretty and young-looking, and my dad was so handsome and young-looking, that he'd be safe snagging their daughter for a bride. He figured she'd age well.

I suppose part of this is just luck and genes. But I think part of it is that my mom hates make-up.

Actresses have to wears loads of make-up. When you see them out of make-up, they aren't so pretty. They look older than they are. Make-up may gussy up a face. It may give a woman a lovely painting on the front part of her head. It may make her look better today than she'd look without the make-up today. But sometimes it seems to wear out a person's beauty too quickly.

My mom will turn 70 this year. But she looks SO much younger. Keeping my fingers crossed that I age as nicely...

Soaked-Grain Bread

When I was making bread the other day, it crossed my mind that somebody might be interested in my quasi-soaking method. And then, lo and behold, Kristi asked about it today.

I tried making sourdough according to the instructions in Nourishing Traditions. But we didn't care for it. I suppose it's healthier for us. But we like our nice, fluffy, "regular" bread that I make.

So I've developed my own method to go halvsies. I take most of the liquid in my bread recipe and about half the flour, and stir them together and let them sit for about 6-8 hours. For my recipe, I use a little more than a pint of liquid (either 1/3 cup buttermilk and 2 cups water, or 2 cups water plus 1 Tbsp whey or raw apple cider vinegar). Then I stir in 3 cups of ww flour.

When it's time to make bread, I take another 1/4 or 1/2 cup of water for the yeast, salt, flax, sugar, oil, etc. I stir that combo into the wet goo of flour/water that's been sitting overnight. Then I continue adding the 3-4 cups of flour left for the recipe, and make the bread just like any other bread recipe.

This gives us the benefits of having half our flour soaked, which makes for easier digestibility and fewer allergy problems. It also gives us the benefit of having bread that is not so heavy and dense that it's hard to use for sandwiches or toast or French toast or hamburger buns.

Lost Mail

Anybody who emailed us since about 11 a.m. Saturday to 8 p.m. Sunday had their mail disappear in cyberspace. I'm curious curious curious. If you tried to email, please send it again. Apparently the mail is working again, but I don't appreciate what the ISP did to resolve the problem.

Some Links

Had a hard time at church today, and I'm finding my joy and comfort in vegging at the computer. Not good. But, hey, it's what I'm doing. (I HATE it when they change the words of the creed on me. Why, oh why, did we have to start using LSB on Trinity Sunday? The day we used the vastly changed Athanasian Creed? Couldn't we have started next week? Ah, but then it would've been during the short dark days of December when I would've had to face a muchly-changed creed for the first time.)

Anyway...
I bumped into Tina's article on being angry at God, struggling with an anxiety disorder, feeling abandoned by God, and finding some relief even though things are not yet peachy.

I also want to point out Pr Stuckwisch's article on dating and matchmaking and romance. I think he covered a lot, said it clearly, and gave wise counsel to both teens and parents.

I remember in fall of 2004 when Pastor was unhappy with me for calling the President a socialist. He thought maybe I was going to vote for the bigger socialist. That wasn't the point; I was just very very disappointed in the acceptance speech at the Republican Convention and the "chicken in every pot" attitude. Cheryl pointed out an article by Peggy Noonan called "Too Bad." Next time around, I want a conservative president committed to smaller government.

I Bind unto Myself Today

When I first learned St Patrick's hymn, I thought it was saying that I am binding God's wisdom and power and might to myself, so that I would be wise and powerful and mighty in His service.

But maybe that's not what it's about. "I bind unto myself today ... His ear to hearken to my need." That's being bound to my pastor. And his ear that hears me in the confessional. And likewise I am bound to his/His voice: "the wisdom of my God to teach." I'm not the wise one. I am not the one who teaches. But I am bound to God's wisdom that is taught to me.

"The Word of God to give me speech." It's not what I speak. But the speech that is given to me. That speech that is sent in my direction from the pastor.

I "bind these things to myself" by hangin' on tight to my pastor, not letting go of him, making sure I'm listening when he opens his mouth, and meditating on these things later.


And with it being June, and all the new guys being ordained, this reminded me of past discussions about whether ordination is a means of grace. When Lutherans first hear about the possibility of considering ordination a means of grace, we bristle. How could it be? After all, that would be saying that God is offering grace to somebody that I'm not allowed access to.

Well, first off, those shepherds who fight the wolf for us sheep should not be begrudged any extra measure of grace from God. IF that's where the "gift of grace" attached to the sacrament of ordination goes, then who's to complain??

But personally, I think the grace given in the sacrament of ordination is the grace given to me because I have a pastor. (For those of you who are trying to figure out my ADDness at the moment, hang on.) If my pastor has the Word of God, if my pastor has God's wisdom (a la St Patrick's hymn) then it is for MY benefit, so that God's grace is given to ME. Likewise, when ordination is considered a sacrament, the grace given therein is grace given to ME, even though I am not the one being ordained.

Well, I think it makes sense. Don't know about the rest of you....

Kombucha on Vacation

My kombucha "mushrooms"/colonies are happiest when they just keep working. We've noticed that, whenever we go on vacation and the mushrooms sit around, waiting until we return, the taste of the tea goes downhill for a while.

I've hunted online for information on what to do with mushrooms while they're not in use. Boy, what a lot of conflicting information! When we went away for a week last year, I kept them in a jar, with a lid, in the refrigerator. Two of my mushrooms died! Oh, sadness! For the ones that survived the week, it took until I got to the "great-grandchildren" (three batches after vacation) before the kombucha started tasting good again.

Usually I would store my mushroom in enough starter for the next batch. But if you let it sit for more than a few days, your kombucha will just keep eating and eating and eating, and gobble up your starter while your mushroom grows fat and sassy. Sometimes I anticipate that, and store my mushroom in 8 ounces of starter rather than 4 ounces. Sometimes I store the mushroom in kombucha tea, but then pour the 3-week-old vinegary tea down the drain and use yummy tea (from bottles) for the next starter. That has worked. The best luck I had taking a break from brewing was for our trip last month. I tried storing a couple of mushrooms in kombucha tea, and a couple of mushrooms in water. They were covered with a cloth so my little mushrooms would not suffocate for lack of air. The little guys were only neglected for a week. But both ways seemed to work pretty well when we came home and started brewing again. I think, though, that it would be better if mushrooms-in-water were stored (lidless) in the refrigerator, because they don't have the fermented tea as a mold-inhibitor.

More About Kombucha

For more information, here's a website that lays things out pretty clearly. I would, however, be leery of their recommendation that you can use high-grade plastic. As a friend told me recently, kombucha is such a good detoxifier that it will snag toxins out of anything very well. That's good if the kombucha is getting the toxins out of your body. It's bad if the kombucha is leeching toxins out of its plastic container and then you're drinking it!

Don't keep your mushrooms, your tea while it's fermenting, or your bottled tea in anything plastic, or anything with a non-stick coating, or in aluminum. Try to stick with glass or a pyrex bowl or possibly stainless steel. I noticed even when I was storing the kombucha in a glass jar with a canning jar lid that the lid would get "eaten into" by the kombucha sitting below it.

Also, it seems to me that it would be good to use only organic tea. But I know not everyone does. And I use good water, run through our reverse-osmosis system.

Because kombucha is a detoxifier, some people experience adverse reactions at first. Some people decide to do a cleanse first and then continue with kombucha. Others just start small with the kombucha: a tablespoon or two a day for a month or so, and then increasing the amount slowly. And then there are people like us who had no problems diving in and drinking it.

I don't like drinking the mushrooms. I don't have a clue as to whether it's good for you or not. But they're slimy and I don't like them in my glass. When I open a bottle and pour it into a glass, you can hear the plop if a mushroom goes into the glass. I fish it out with a fork. My husband, however, has not been so opposed to the mushroom once he heard about Pastor T's dog (which likes to dig the mushrooms out of the compost pile) having the thickest and shiniest coat of fur of all the dogs in the neighborhood.

Kombucha Nutrition Facts

I found nutrition information online, through a company that sells bottled kombucha. His claim is that there are 30 calories per 8 oz serving, as well as about 20% of the recommended daily allowance of B vitamins. As for probiotics, a half-pint of kombucha also provides about over a billion living organisms. Because it is a raw food, it's also loaded with enzymes. Raw kombucha also has organic acids and amino acids, but I haven't read enough about health to know what those are or why they're supposed to be good for you.

Kombucha is a liver detoxifier. That's why sometimes you see claims that it can be a "wonder cure." If your body is overworked with too many toxins, too many allergens, too many illnesses or sicknesses in the past, or whatever, it just can't handle all the garbage we throw at ourselves these days. So some people end up with allergies or asthma, some people end up with rashes, some people end up depressed, some people end up with compromised immune systems or fibromyalgia or reflux or any number of other ailments. Kombucha is not a medicine to cure any of these things. But if it helps clean out the gunk, that enables your body to more easily fight the things that drag it down.

Edit a year later: the page previously linked to has disappeared out of cyber-world. I linked instead to another of my posts referring to a couple of alternate pages, even though they aren't as clear and helpful as the previous link used to be.